


natural law

by Ireliss



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 16:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireliss/pseuds/Ireliss
Summary: Sometimes, he has the unnerving sensation of being watched, but when he dips into the minds around him nothing is out of place. Too many late nights, Charles decides, thoughts circling back to his impending thesis defense.It will be, he hopes, a first step in the future acceptance of his and Raven's kind.AU where En Sabah Nur wakes before the events of XMFC. Charles plans for the future. So does En Sabah Nur.





	natural law

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [bocje_ce_ustu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bocje_ce_ustu/pseuds/bocje_ce_ustu) in the [xmenrarepairs19](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs19) collection. 



> During the planning stages of this I was entertaining vague thoughts of an AU where ESN and Charles meet while Charles is still young, and ESN's whole "MY CHILDREN" schtick combines disastrously with Charles' lack of a proper father figure. I hope someday that someone (not me) will write it :eyes:
> 
> **Prompt:**  
>  Apocalypse wakes up in the '60s, finds Charles (through Moira?) and through him builds his following.  
> Cue Apocalypse/(a part of the) First Class gang as Horsemen  
> or  
> Apocalypse/Charles/Whoever where Apocalypse leaves the vetting of prospective Horsemen to Charles before their “fusion”.

Charles is nine years old and he thinks he's going crazy. That's what they call people who hear voices - crazy, dangerous, better lock them up and throw away the key, it's better for everyone that way.

Charles may be crazy but he's not stupid. He knows he can't tell anyone about this. It's not as if he has anyone to tell anyway, and a long time ago he might have felt sad at the thought, but it's been his unchanging reality for so many years now that he might as well feel sad about the law of entropy.

Tonight he's tucked up in a tight ball on his bed, blankets yanked up over his head and hands pressed over his ears. It doesn't help, it never does and he doesn't expect it ever will, but it's better than staring blankly at a wall and doing nothing. Sometimes he's afraid that if he doesn't fight it, he'll be washed away, _Charles Xavier_ swept from his own body like bloodied water swirling down the drain, leaving an empty vessel behind for the voices to fill.

His head is stuffed full of talking, laughing, shouting - but he's never felt more alone in his life.

One night, he snaps. The blankets slither to the floor as he throws them off him, sitting bolt upright. _Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and over again but expecting different results_ and Charles decides he doesn't want to be crazy in another way, thank you very much. He's done trying to suppress something that will never go away. Tonight, instead of plugging his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, Charles looks out of his window, rubbing gently at his temple with two fingers as he pictures himself reaching _out._

It's like picking off a scab, like ripping the door off a cage, but loneliness continues to claw at his chest even as he drowns under the tide of voices.

***

It's not until Raven that Charles is finally, finally sure that he's not crazy, and the thrum of _not alone not alone_ blooms joyously through him.

Every single thing about Raven is an absolute delight _._ His chest feels full to bursting every time he looks at her beautiful blue, her rippling scales, the flash of her white teeth as she smiles shyly at him. He knows from the voices that what he's feeling is _love,_ powerful and all-encompassing, and he lets the knowledge settle into his bones.

But the other side of love is fear. He knows better than anyone - from the voices, because he hears voices - that people are scared of what they don't understand, and scared people make bad choices. Sometimes they don't mean to, sometimes they just - panic.

Not that it makes a difference to their victim.

So it's up to him to keep the two of them safe. He slips into the role of _responsible older brother_ as easily as putting on a suit, for the first time grateful for the voices that give him more experience than any other boy his age.

But he doesn’t have the answer to everything. "I'm sick of hiding," Raven tells him, tugging angrily at her blonde hair, and Charles can't seem to find the right words to explain that _everyone_ hides, that the world would be awful and scary if everyone acted out what they were thinking all the time.

"Do you think I look pretty?" And how could he break her heart by saying most people would hate and fear her beautiful blue skin because they aren't ready to understand yet? To accept? It's the two of them alone against the rest of the world until he can find a way for everyone to get along.

And then-

"Stay _out_ of my head, Charles!"

Charles loves her as much as ever, he really does, but things are never the same between them after that. The gulf between them grows bit by steady bit, vast and lonely.

***

Oxford is a new start. The world of academia unfurls something in him, a vibrating excitement fuelling his thirst for knowledge. There's hardly a moment to rest in between his experiments and his data and the stacks of journals piling up precariously on his desk, but Charles feels good about himself. Finally, he's doing something meaningful.

His one regret is that his time with Raven had shrank away to almost nothing. When he looks at her these days, it's with a simmering mix of guilt and confusion as his little sister seems to turn into a stranger right before his eyes. “What’s gotten into you lately?” He had asked more than once, but he never gets a straight answer, and he’s strictly forbidden himself from using his telepathy to understand Raven.

Sometimes, he has the unnerving sensation of being watched, but when he dips into the minds around him nothing is out of place. Too many late nights, he decides, thoughts circling back to his impending thesis defense.

It will be, he hopes, a first step in the future acceptance of his and Raven's kind.

***

It's hard to say whether he's more drunk off the beer or off the energy from the ebullient crowd. Charles grins, flushed with success, basking unabashedly in the chorus of congratulations heaped on him. He ambles around the room, looki-

It's like hitting a wall. His telepathy flutters around him, unsettled at - _something_ , a fortress where usually voices should flow smooth and easy. He cranes his neck, too tipsy to be concerned with appearances as he swivels back and forth.

There's a broad hooded figure standing at the exit, utterly out of place. Its face is obscured, but Charles has the inexplicable sense of being summoned, and before he stops to think about it, his feet are carrying him forward.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," he says, aiming for nonchalance. It's unmistakable now - this figure is the source of the barrier blocking his gift. "And believe me, I'm sure I would have noticed someone with your particular preference when it comes to dress."

The silence - both psychic and actual - is odd, but Charles is intrigued rather than intimidated. He holds out his hand. "Charles Xavier."

He eyes widen in wonder as the figure takes his hand. Its skin is leathery, a shade of grey-blue that is in no way human.

"Congratulations, Professor." There's an odd cadence to the voice that emanates from underneath the shadow of the hood, a sense of purpose coupled with strange, vibrating timbre.

"You're... You're like me." Shock gives way to giddy excitement, a smile breaking across Charles' face. "How absolutely _marvelous._ "

There's a shift that may be the figure nodding his head. Oh, how Charles longs to dive into that mind, to rip off that hood and see what other wonders lie under it. But he's not so drunk that he's forgotten the need for discretion. They are, after all, surrounded by their human kin, prone to fear and panic when faced with the unknown.

Reluctantly, he lets go of the powerful hand. "I think I'd like to get out of here. What say you?"

"Yes," is all his mysterious new friend says, but it's more than enough. Charles is still beaming as he leads the two of them to his flat.

***

"Mankind has called me by many names." With the concealing robe discarded, the mutant makes for an incongruous sight, his powerful frame and ornate armour a sharp contrast to the homey comforts of Charles' flat. Charles hadn't been able to take his eyes off him since the moment they met. Unable to stop himself, he leans forward.

"You sound like you think you're...apart from them, apart from mankind."

"I have lived for millennia. To me, they are children."

"Is that part of your mutation? I've told you about mine - " Charles taps his fingers against his temples, "but what about yours? You're like no one I've met before, your mind is just closed to me somehow."

"I have lived for millennia," the mutant repeats. His eyes are warm with regard. "In all my lifetimes, I have never met anyone like you."

Charles has a thousand questions and he's starting to doubt he'll get a straight answer to even a single one, but at that moment, he can't help but feel a spark of pleasure.

The pleasure lingers even through an immensely circuitous conversation that goes deep into the night. Charles is only aware of the passage of time when he hears keys jingling. He jumps to his feet. "Raven must be back. My god, she'll absolutely love you. She's my sister, another mutant; she's absolutely marvelous. Just wait here, let me go get her."

The mutant - En Sabah Nur, it took entirely too long to glean his name - seems amused at something. "Bring her to me, Charles," is all he says.

***

Raven, as predicted, is absolutely enthralled by their visitor. She shifts forms for him, flickering briefly to her natural blue before assuming her blond shape again. Her cheeks flush with pleasure when En Sabah Nur cards his fingers through her hair, saying: "Your gift is beautiful, my child."

The two of them grill En Sabah Nur for a while longer, and although their mysterious visitor remains unfathomable, he concedes to allowing Charles to run curious fingers along the ornate designs etched on his armour. Charles' heart beats faster when En Sabah Nur closes one hand around his wrist, guiding his hand up so he can explore the lines of En Sabah Nur's face. This close, the aura of power emanating from En Sabah Nur is an almost physical presence, an alluring warm glow that calls to Charles' telepathy. Curious, he reaches out - and he feels something reaching _back._

He snaps back to reality when Raven clears her throat. "Charles, I almost forgot. There was some woman looking for you back at the pub - she said she was on urgent business. Moira MacTaggert or something, do you know her?"

Unaccountably flustered, Charles adjusts his position, smoothing his hair back. "No, no, I don't believe I've heard that name before. Did she give any details?"

"I think it's something to do with your thesis."

Charles sits up straighter. He could hardly dare hope that his work is making a difference already. "Then of course I'll see her."

"Is she human?"

Both he and Raven turn to look at En Sabah Nur. Raven frowns. "She must be, right? I mean, I didn't see her do anything weird, but..."

"It hardly matters," Charles interjects firmly. "I'll see her either way."

It's hard to interpret the look En Sabah Nur gives him, but Charles has the sense that he's being evaluated.

***

"I hope I'm not being terribly presumptive, but I have a feeling you don't particularly approve of humans," Charles observes later, after Raven had left to sleep off the excitement of the night.

Again comes that sense of evaluation. "We are greater than they are. Stronger. More powerful. _Better._ "

"Oh, my friend," the endearment slips out before he can think better of it, and impulsively he rests a hand against En Sabah Nur's arm, "we _are_ humans. Mutated ones, yes, with wondrous gifts - and yours are perhaps the most wondrous of all - but we're human all the same. Our similarities are greater than our differences."

"Does your sister feel the same?"

"What, Raven?" _Of course,_ he almost says, but he hesitates.

"I have read the teachings of your hero," En Sabah Nur continues. He clasps his hand over Charles' own. "The survival of the fittest, is it not? The strongest shall inherit the world. It is the natural order of things."

"Well, yes," Charles frowns, worrying at his lip, "But Darwin was talking about reproductive success, adaptation to the environment, that sort of thing - it doesn't necessarily correlate to physical strength."

"No." And suddenly En Sabah Nur kisses the side of his head. "Your strength is not a physical one, yet I've not seen its like in a thousand lifetimes. You will change the world."

God, but this mutant has a way of catching him flat-footed. Charles reverts to what he knows best, letting out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Well, thank you for that, although I certainly hope that my telepathy won't be the _only_ reason for my success."

"No more than anything else. It is a part of you, as much as your science and philosophy, your faith and your hopes for the future.” En Sabah Nur pauses. A great solemnity settles over him. “Your love."

When En Sabah Nur kisses Charles again, this time on the mouth, lips brushing carefully together, it feels like the natural progression of events. Charles sinks into it, closing his eyes.

***

Later, lying in his bed together, Charles replays his memories of the day with a telepath's impeccable recall and feels unease creep up his spine. "You know," he says softly, carefully, "We've spent a lot of time talking tonight, but I don't think at any point have I ever mentioned that Charles Darwin was one of my childhood heroes."

En Sabah Nur is silent. Charles wets his lips. Part of him doesn't want to push, doesn't want to risk driving away the best thing that had happened to him since Raven.

But he has to know. "And when you first greeted me, you congratulated me on my thesis. But you don't strike me as the academic type. So how did you know? How did you find me in the first place?"

The silence drags on. They're still connected, Charles' back resting against the powerful muscles of En Sabah Nur's chest. His telepathy reaches out again, only to meet the alluring warmth he is coming to associate with En Sabah Nur.

That seems to spark a reaction. En Sabah Nur's arms tighten around him. "You know I have lived many lifetimes. What I have not told you yet is that I was betrayed. Entombed. A millennia trapped in darkness, my revelations lost to the world. For what? Human jealousy. Fear."

Charles turns to face him, eyes wide. "I am sorry, my friend, but - "

"Shh." En Sabah Nur presses his thumb against Charles' lips, and Charles quiets, tense but eager to hear the rest. "It has only been a few years since I woke from that darkness. It was a voice that woke me - yours, Charles."

It feels like the wind had been knocked out of him. Charles stares, astonished, wide-eyed, even as En Sabah Nur touches his face reverently. “You must have only been a boy then, but I had never felt such purity of emotion before. I could feel your yearning to understand your power. I could feel your longing for others of our kind. I could feel your need for a companion, a partner, a family. I knew I had to find you."

En Sabah Nur kisses him again. "You are not alone."


End file.
